


Emerald Blossoms

by Fluidfyre



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Humor, Hunters & Hunting, Nudity, Oral Sex, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-08
Updated: 2014-12-08
Packaged: 2018-02-28 14:10:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2735495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fluidfyre/pseuds/Fluidfyre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Heading to set up a new encampment in the Emerald Graves, Solas and the Inquisitor Taliah Lavellan find some time alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Emerald Blossoms

They marched through the verdant trees of the Emerald Graves at a steady pace. The horses were given over to carrying the tents, supplies, and other accoutrement the planned outpost would have. The Inquisitor Taliah Lavellan walked at the head, her gait easy and lithe, still accustomed to her feet carrying her where she needed in the worlds. This place felt better than the Exalted Plains, the moss, the humidity, the green, the canopy overhead welcomed her, hid so much, and felt familiar. It wasn’t marred by Orlais’ war the same way, it didn’t remind her of all the promises broken, or inspire the same rage. 

In her hands were elfroot flowers, the plant in bloom throughout the forest. She hummed to herself as she wove another crown. Solas walked beside her, watching her hands with a smitten smile of his own, his bald head adorned with the first of her idle creations.

Dorian walked alongside Varric in their wake, and he shook his head and murmured, “Someone’s getting laid.”

“Give her a break, she deserves the relaxation,” Varric chuckled. The sound coughed out as she turned and plunked the new crown on his head, and smirked at him. 

Taliah darted to pick a few more flowers, keeping ahead of the bulk of their scouts and horses.

“Shall I recommend your chest next for the flowers?” Dorian mused.

“Only if that ‘stache of yours is too.”

Dorian laughed once. 

Solas’ walked staff in hand to pick his way along the overgrown path, between moss-clung statues of gods and myth. The afternoon sun lent a golden quality to the trees, glittering, and the air echoed with the calls of birds and more. He couldn’t keep from watching her stoop to pick the flowers, and then the leaves too, before moving on to another. Eyes that roamed down her thighs and left him irresponsibly lightheaded and distressed.

“Enjoying the view?” Dorian called.

Solas’ nose scrunched and his eyebrows turned down, but the knot released, and he merely said, “Who wouldn’t?”

Dorian laughed again.

Taliah came back with the third crown, making straight for Dorian.

“Ahh my dear friend,” Dorian wrinkled his nose and his moustache twitched as she lifted the crown up, not quite able to place it. His eyes sparkled. “I’m afraid if you cannot reach, then it simply isn’t meant to be.”

She smirked and jumped to toss it on top of his hair, and it landed lopsided.

“Lovely,” he murmured

“Ohh, nothing could detract from your loveliness,” she said.

“I am well aware,” he said and smiled now as she gave his arm a push.

“I won’t make you wear it to the masquerade. At least there’s that saving grace?” she said, and fell back into stride beside Solas.

“But you want me to come?”

“Of course. You’re the son of a magister and a mage, think of all the courtiers. Will they be able to contain themselves on that alone, imagine when they meet you?”

“Indeed,” Dorian replied, and tugged the crown from his head when she turned around. 

They found the surveyed ridge in late afternoon, tents down and horses tied. Scouts were given assignments for the surrounding woods, while the Inquisitor offered to hunt. A touch on her arm was all she needed from Solas to know he would come. From the ridge they assessed where to go, treading back over their steps.

“I saw the trail on the way out.”

“As did I.”

Taliah grinned at him before they forded through the brush, and followed the tracks for some time. She led with careful, quiet steps, and he followed in her wake. It wasn’t the first time they’d hunted together, leading back through Crestwood and the Hinterlands, more than once they’d found themselves alone and tracking quarry to feed the rest. There was a natural rhythm to it, a comfort that made her think of her clan. It was a thought about simpler times and simpler roles. They didn’t speak, but a touch of hand or a nod led them, and the shadows were long when they finally settled into the brush beneath a towering tree on the edge of a running stream. 

Finding a comfortable poise, they waited hip-to-hip, in the rejuvenating glyph that Solas laid. They were hid by the hush of leaves in the breeze and the rush of the stream, and the light was the growing fire of evening’s herald. The song of the birds changed with the light, the calls longer and echoing through the canopy. Taliah’s free hand gradually found its way down Solas’ knee and thigh. His lips pressed to her shoulder, eyes down her neck, studying her features, soaking in as she watched. Her eyes stayed alert on the stream, and on the path they had tracked. 

An August ram appeared as the sun fell below the canopy, hooves clacking through the underbrush to take it to drink from the stream. Taliah’s breath arrested, her bow lifting with plodding ease through the foliage. She paid no heed to Solas now, arms braced and steady. The arrow flew and took the ram in the neck, a squelch and cry preceded the splash of its body on the shore. 

“Finally,” she said and stood up on stiff legs, smiling at him. She touched his chest before fording the stream to drag the ram back out of the water. A blade was in her hand as she knelt down and eviscerated the beast with trained ease. Solas joined her and they worked in tandem to field dress it, stitching the cavity shut with sinew before hanging it to drain. 

Back down by the stream, Taliah stripped off her cuirass and sat down on a stone to rinse the blood off her arms. He could see the ease in her posture, half naked here in the wood, far from any wall, or building, or army. She looked up from where the water sluiced off, and she lifted her chin, swaying her head to beckon him closer. His robes were immaculate, his hands rinsed clean, his footsteps on flattened rocks in the stream to keep dry. He was pulled to her though, eyes on the curve of her neck, the rope of her muscles, and her hands where the water flowed off. 

Solas undid his belt, and the long coat fell free at his hips, letting him use the hem to dry up her arms, stomach, and as her face turned up to him, breasts. She was about to speak but he clipped the word with his lips, his needing hands around her waist. Fingers pressed skin, dragging up her sides and to bend her, pliant in his embrace. Challenging tongues that had learned to follow, to meet, and give, small breaths caught between. She exhaled hard against his lips in the moment he gave her, pulse panging as she met him in another couplet of kisses that carried on where the last left off.

Their feet splashed in the stream, and Taliah’s foot slid down a rock, but he held her fast, smiling as she laughed. Her eyes trailed up to where the flower crown still adorned his shiny head, and she reached for it. 

“Very sexy—“ She caught in a kiss again, a rumble in her throat as his hands descended her spine, her bare skin mushed against his coat. Her finger caught in the flower chain and broke the crown, before her hands sought the hem of his coat, of his shirt, gripping to keep him in against her lips. 

When her hands moved next, they shucked his coat, tangling his arms and letting them catch breath, nose to nose and lip to lip. Taliah tugged it off and tossed it up the bank while still in his arms, and Solas took the invitation as she pulled them both down atop it. Her hands plied up his hips, dragging over skin and sides to urge his sweater off, leaving the jaw bone necklace to plunk on her chest as his kisses spilt over her cheek, jawline, and neck. She tilted her head back to expose her throat, and when his mouth opened on her skin, she couldn’t keep in the heady sigh.

Taliah’s eyes opened to the sky, to the branches overhead, and the hues of sunset streaking across the sky. She turned her head to kiss Solas wrist, then his palm as he cradled her head, his lips now down the ridge of her collarbone. It sent another shiver, tension down her spine, and she plied his shoulder to urge him back to her lips.

Their bodies pressed together on the bank, the kisses drawing out, lips plucking to part, to taste, and Taliah’s hips rose to meet his own, her thigh linking around his to keep his body nestled to hers. Solas sighed, his nose tracing a circle around her own, lips barely touching. He shifted his weight, a hand dropping down her body, fingers dragging over the swell of her breast and toned abdomen, and up the thigh that held him. His lips evaded her, their breath lingering together as their bodies rolled to respond to the grind, and he smiled. His hand glided down her ass, and when Taliah tried to kiss again he moved just enough that their lips brushed.

A trembling sigh seeped from her as Solas delved down her body, a firm thumb over her nipple, before lips and teeth would find them too, tasting skin, feeling muscle and edging lower. The jawbone pendant dragged down her skin with him, cold compared to his warmth of his tongue. His lips left the curve of her ribs as he sat up and looked to her, undoing her belt at the same time. Taliah disentangled her legs, shimmying and contorting to unbuckle her greaves, and his hands were there helping to slide off her pants, the buckles and all, eager to reveal skin. He kept one leg in his grasp, lips finding her inner knee, gliding up her thigh and bending to kiss her pelvis too. 

Taliah’s breath caught in her throat, Solas’ teeth grazing skin as his fingers raked up her thigh. Her smile widened, hips tensing, his hand now on her stomach as he kissed and dragged his nose along her thigh. His breath was on her skin, deliberate exhalations. When his fingers touched home with a knowing rub, she sighed out hard, and her own hand curled into the undergrowth, catching moss and dried leaf. His lips and mouth soon followed, and Lavallen’s mouth fell open, her other hand coming to touch the top of his head. 

Furrows of distress knit Taliah’s brow as Solas’ tongue moved, and her breath caught as his fingers teased down, the air in her only hushing out as they slid in. Her fingers plied the top of his head, hips rising, and his other hand gripping her backside. Eyes closed, it left her to the mercy of his touch, his mouth, the hum and murmur of his breath against her loins. Her breath clipped faster, tight inhalations that spurred him, and his mouth only parted when she sighed a murmur of words. Isala was all he caught.

Licking his lips, Solas kissed her stomach, fingers still beckoning in her at a steady pace. “Mmm?”

“You,” Taliah said, eyes opening and rolling to look at him. Her mouth opened farther and she sucked the breath, matching his coy grin. She reached and caught only the jawbone, and he let her pull him to her, meeting her lips with an open kiss. Solas’ hips pressed her thigh, tights strained over his loins, grinding together as they kissed and gasped. Her arm linked around his shoulders, lips escaping into his neck as her breath rattled in the word. “….please.”

His lips covered hers, consuming her sigh as he laid into her, chest to chest, the jawbone an imprint against her breast. Taliah inhaled into the kiss through her nose as their hips ground, and the crook of her arm gripped his neck, fingers splayed over his shoulder. His hand was on her hip when there was a low vibration through the ground. Another followed in a moment and their kiss broke, both eyes going wide. 

She held her breath, listening, and there was another ground shaking thud, and she craned her head, seeing movement through the trees. Steeling her arm around Solas, Taliah grabbed his coat and rolled sideways into a the underbush, half-squishing him beneath her. Her cheek was on his lips, the fur and leather of his coat haphazard atop their tangled bodies, and she looked to where a pair of giants emerged from the trees. 

Steady they held, silent and unmoving in the underbrush as the giants strode within a few meters, eagerly taking the ram where it hung by the stream. Pulse racing higher, Taliah watched the ram split, and the seconds passed into minutes, the crunch of bone and the giants communicating in their own way. She could see her armour, could see her daggers out of arm’s reach, there alongside Solas’ shirt and his staff. Beside the broken flower crown. She would have cursed if it wouldn’t give them away.

The giants finally moved on, and it was only when the footsteps could not longer be heard that the tension left them. Taliah slumped aside, gingerly moving as she picked twigs and pebbles out of indented skin. She let out a hard sigh, looking at Solas and they both laughed, rising on knees.

“Can’t say I’ve ever had that happen before,” Taliah muttered and put her hands on her hips, looking at the spatter of blood where their kill had been. 

Solas had his shirt in hand, and her under jerkin too. “Nor have I.”

She put a hand on his chest, and she sighed as it strayed down his stomach and thigh. She took the jerkin. “Not much light left. Guess we should use it. Dorian won’t believe me if we go back empty handed.”

**Author's Note:**

>  _Isala_ \- in need of


End file.
